Changes
by ponderer
Summary: “See, Derek Venturi would never blush. Now he does. I wonder who else changed,” she says smugly. DASEY


TITLE: Changes  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
SUMMARY: "See, Derek Venturi would never blush. Now he does. I wonder who else changed," she says smugly. DASEY  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, this has been my little project the past week. I'd write a page here or there and my aim was to go over my usual 3 page one shot. I know I'm not ready for a multi chapter piece, as I haven't yet mastered the dialogue of the characters yet, but I tried and played with some here. I hope it comes across as in character, but I doubt it. Oh well.

Please, keep up the wonderful reviews. I don't know what I'd do without them. Seriously.

**Changes.**

Her alarm going off in the morning is the noise that awakes you. She stirs only slightly, her chin rubbing against your shirt clad chest. Her arm is loose around your waist, bare legs tangled with yours. Your neck is sore, having been leaning against the side of an extremely uncomfortable couch, and you estimate that it's been at least five hours by the ache crawling along your spine as you wake slowly. Your arms, you finally notice, are wrapped around her in a rather intimate embrace; one securely around her back to hold her close, the other hand is in her hair, now loose and flowing. The phone continues to go off for a few more seconds and before you can place what to do, her hand reaches down from its spot over your heart, racing now, and into her front pocket to get her phone. She groans when she sees the time but still doesn't move from her spot. You wonder how long it will take her to move when she realizes who she's slept against all night.

You're surprised however when instead she turns the alarm off and settles herself back into your embrace. She snuggles closer, in fact, inhaling deeply into your neck. You count the seconds, wondering if she is still too tired to know her surroundings, including the warm body holding her. So, before you change your mind, you inch your hand from her back down to her waist and rub the bare skin you find there. It's smoother there than you imagined, and as your fingers graze you feel goose bumps blossom underneath your butterfly touch. She in turn moves her fingers up to your collar bone and to your neck, a whisper of a touch against your morning stubble.

You don't know how much more of this innocent touching you can take; especially without knowing if she means it or not. And after what happened last night, you don't know where it could lead.

-

You'd been invited by Sam to go to a party for the end of the term and it just happened to be the same weekend Casey was invited to visit Emily who was attending the same school as Sam. You agreed, and with hassling from the brunette, you decided to drive up together and stay.

"I'm almost done packing Derek. I figured we could be on the road within the hour," Casey said, crossing off something on her notebook as she entered your dorm room. You looked up from your _Rolling Stone_ and gazed at her lazily.

"Oh, I guess I'll have to get my things together then," you answered, going back to your open magazine, knowing you'd get a response from her about it.

"You haven't even started packing yet?" she exclaimed, you barely having read a full sentence. You looked back up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Of course you haven't. Well, do you have laundry that's clean? I suppose I could do a quick wash for you first because God knows the last time you've done any."

"I'll have you know I did a load last week. And I do have clean clothes," you replied, getting up and moving to your closet to grab a bag. Finding it, you moved it back to your unmade bed. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed the first few items and shoved them into your bag, hangers still attached.

"You can't just pack your clothes like that! They'll get wrinkled!" Casey yelled, moving towards him and reaching into his bag for his clothes. "These won't even match at all. Why don't you take time to think about what you're going to wear?"

"Because unlike you, I don't care if my blue shirt goes with those pants. I grab the first thing I see and wear it and I can pull it off. It's all in the attitude," you answer with a smirk, taking back the clothes and stuffing them back into the bag, wrinkling the few she had started to fold nicely.

"Yeah, and with that attitude comes a lot of responsibility on my part. Can I at least fold them? I refuse to iron them when we get there and I doubt Sam will either. Not that either of you even know how to use it."

"Sure Sam does. He dated you, remember?"

"God, that was like five years ago and you still bring it up? I'm over it, Sam's over it, the world is over it," she answered, moving back to the bag and folding the clothes neatly once again. You stand back and let her, knowing that she's right about the ironing but not wanting to admit she's correct.

There's a comforting silence that begins, something that has been more prominent in your quasi friendship since the divorce three years previous. And because of it, however dramatic it was for the kids, it was almost a blessing for you and Casey. It brought you closer, and not that you didn't still fight, but it made you realize that you needed her just as much as she needed you. Between making sure the kids were okay and being normal teenagers, it limited the insults and made things more business like. Before you knew it, you were friends.

And not long after that, you knew you wanted more than that.

"So, any hot girls you have in mind to use your charm over?" she quips, losing your image of tumbling into your bed with her and not leaving all weekend; screw Sam and Emily.

"Um, ha, yeah, who knows," you manage to say and immediately cringe but thankfully you're turned from her so she doesn't see. However, you know her well enough to know she's wearing a curious frown because she knows you just as well to know your response wasn't the norm for one Derek Venturi.

"Derek?" she asks after a moment, and you fumble for something, anything to fix it.

"Because I'll be making sure you're not making an ass of yourself, fawning over any football stars. Don't want you to lose your cool or anything," you say, giving her the usual smirk and you see that it's worked. Her hands fall to her hips, jaunting to the side in her angry stance.

"Don't go worrying about me okay? You're the one that's been slacking in the dating department lately," she laughs and your gut drops. She's always been way too good at reading you. "Besides, I really don't think I'll be going to that party anyways. Emily and I haven't really talked lately and I can't imagine her wanting to go out since the break-up."

-

"Casey, we need to go to this party. Please!" You hear Emily plead with Casey through the phone and you can't help but chuckle. You knew the moment that Casey mentioned that she wouldn't be going out that you knew she would. She was always one to jinx herself in situations, and this would be no different.

"Derek, would Sam mind if we went to the party?" she asks in a huff, and you can tell she hates the idea of going.

"I doubt it. He's not going to know half the people there, so why not bring in a few more familiar faces to even it up," you laugh, your eyes sweeping the apartment Sam shares with his roommate and girlfriend Jenna. The couple was currently hiding all prized possessions and locking them into their shared bedroom, whispering and giggling while doing so. "Maybe he won't notice you either."

"Aw, is Derek being ignored by the cutesy couple?" Casey said, oohing over the prospect.

"No. I'm disgusted by their displays of affection. You might not want to come to this either, it's too sweet even for you," you reply, watching as Sam enfolds Jenna into a close embrace, murmuring something into her neck followed by a very hot kiss that should not be shared in public. "Ugh, will you two get a room already?" you exclaim, but there's humor to it and Casey laughs on the other line, momentarily loosing your attention to the couple in front of you.

"Well, we'll see you there later," she answers.

"Give me a call when you get here," you say and it's a bit too quiet all of a sudden and you feel like everyone is watching and listening.

"I will," she says just as quiet, the emotion there, the feeling that maybe she feels the same way. It's laced into her, "Bye."

"Yeah," you say and flip your phone shut. When you glance up a second later, you see something flash in Sam's eyes, and you know you're in trouble.

-

"So, what's the deal with Casey?" he asks later on while you pick out alcohol at the liquor store down the street. You look over at your best friend and blank for a minute.

"What do you mean?" you answer finally, deciding to try and avoid the subject.

However, Sam has always known you and like Casey, can tell when you are trying to deny or avoid. "Look, dude, just tell me. It'll make me feel better knowing that there's something going on, especially when you get pissy when she's dancing with some other guy."

"There's another guy?" you say before you think and Sam's eyebrow rises.

"Ah, so something is going on," he laughs, moving from the vodka to the beer coolers.

"Sam, nothing's going on. I mean, I don't know, things between Casey and I have always been awkward, and I don't know, maybe I'm just realizing that…"

"That you like having her around more than you'd like to admit?" Sam offers but you shake your head.

"That I want to just take her against the wall," you answer warily and watch Sam's face for his reaction. He doesn't disappoint.

"Oh wow. I didn't know it was that far yet, dude. You're in deep then, huh?"

"Yeah," you answer dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, I mean, it kind of figures right? You guys spent all of that time together and went to school together and you practically live with each other in the dorms. She practically answers your phone for you since you're always together," Sam calculates.

"I guess. Things are finally normal for us, you know? I can't mess it up," you say, and Sam nods.

"I get that. And it makes sense, it does, but really, are you able to just sit idly by and be her friend? Not even try and put yourself out there?"

Sam tugs on a bottle of rum, and moves forward to the cashier. You watch for a moment as a couple enters the store holding hands and before you let yourself think anymore, you follow after Sam to the register.

-

The party was in full swing by the time Casey called. "Where are you?" you ask, taking a sip of your beer, the cold of the outside sweating against your hand.

"We just pulled in. Are all these cars here for the party?" she asks warily, and you know she's nervous about the crowd.

"Probably. No worries, I can meet you downstairs and let you up," you answer, already slowly making your way to the door. You pass Sam along the way and mouth Casey's name and Sam nods in reply. "How's Emily?"

"In a mood for drinking and boys!" you hear Emily exclaim and you can't help but laugh. You'd heard enough from Casey about the breakup between Emily and Kevin that she had taken it pretty rough and it was good that she was ready to go out and mingle again. Casey seemed to have other ideas though.

"Emily, please. Are you sure about this?" she asked calmly.

"Come on Casey. Even you need to loosen up tonight. It'll be good for us," you hear Emily answer and you agree. Casey had been on edge all week, finals finally over and the stress of the semester ended for the upcoming summer. "And hey, Derek's here, so you can talk to him if it gets too boring."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Casey said, her voice mumbled. You assume she's covered the phone with her hand. There was another sound and Emily was on the phone.

"Derek, this girl needs to party as much as I do. So, please let us in and keep the drinks coming," she said and you close the phone as you open the front door. Emily, wearing a jean skirt and tank top, looks anxious and excited. Casey is the opposite, arms crossed over her chest. It only takes you a second to notice that she's wearing your old high school sweatshirt. You feel something in your stomach, and before you can say anything, Emily pushes her way in past you, already heading for the stairs. Casey looks on.

"Come on Case, it won't be that bad," you insist, smiling a little bit to comfort her. She looks wary still, but nods finally and moves in the doorway. You catch a whiff of her perfume, something fruity and when she notices you haven't moved, she stops and turns back.

"Well, I'm not going in there alone," she says, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Okay, let's go then," you reply. She puts her arm through yours and you go up the stairs together.

By the time you reach the party, Emily already has a drink in one hand and is dancing with a blond guy. Casey looks like she wants to go up to her friend, but you lead her to the kitchen. "Drink," you motion and she allows you to show her the way with your hand gently on her back. She leans against the counter waiting for you to pour her a drink, a pink concoction that Jenna had made late that afternoon. "It's good. I tried one earlier," you say and she takes a sip and makes a sound of delight.

"Not bad," she says and you nod happily. There's no room left in the kitchen now, people pouring drinks from the keg or getting chips from bowls along the counter. Casey moves a little and you shuffle behind her so that she's in front of you, your back against the cool surface. She leans back, resting the back of her head on your shoulder and you can feel her muscles begin to relax a little bit.

"Better?" you mumble into her ear and you can feel her nod. Without thinking, one of your hands comes up to rest on her waist and you notice that she leans into it a bit.

"Where's Sam? I didn't see him when we came in," she says before taking another sip of her drink.

"I saw him before I came downstairs. I think he was in the living room," you answer, reaching forward for her glass to taste it. When you give the cup back to her, you can taste the fruit and liquor of the drink and also the sweet sugar of her lip gloss.

"Good right?" she says, taking another sip and then placing the now empty cup behind you. When she's done, she grabs your hand and for a moment you fear she's going to drop it and move away, but she turns to face you and pulls your arm around her waist instead. She looks at you thoughtfully for a second and you don't know what's going to happen, but then you see a finger on her shoulder and it's Sam. You don't know whether to be mad or happy to see him. "Sam! How are you!" she says happily and she throws herself against his neck.

He nods happily and hugs her back just as tightly. "I'm fine Case. What's up?"

"Emily dragged me here. No offense," she says and turns back to you and leans back comfortably again. Sam takes in the fact that her arm reaches for your hand again and places it around you. He looks up at you and half smirks so Casey doesn't notice. You gulp and look anywhere else.

"No matter the story, I'm glad you came. Keep Derek occupied would you? I think he's been a bit lonely these past few days," Sam says and you mock glare at him.

"I wouldn't be if you weren't attached to Jenna the whole time," you say and Casey laughs. She turns her face and you've just realized how close she is to you.

"Jealous?" she murmurs.

Your eyes click and something appears in hers before you reply, "Not so much." She looks a few seconds longer, and then she blinks and the moment's gone. She's tense now, and she moves away to refill her glass.

"I'm going to go find Emily," she says and leaves the room without looking back.

"Dude, what was that? She was practically all over you!" Sam says, excited. He clasps your shoulder and then reaches to the bowl to pour himself a drink.

"I have no idea," you reply, running your hands over your face. You feel suddenly exhausted, like you've just run a mile.

"I think I do," Sam answers, raising his eyebrows and nudging your shoulder. You smile briefly but can't shake your beating heart.

-

"Why are you over here on your own?" You feel a warm breath against the back of your neck as you sit on the couch. You turn your head slightly, hoping for a familiar face, but instead find a girl with too much lipstick.

"Just sitting," you reply evenly, turning your head back to the TV where two guys are playing Xbox. You take a sip of your beer as the girl comes around the couch, stumbles, and then clumsily falls onto the couch. You grin a bit when you see how she is trying to be seductive.

"Well, maybe I can just sit here with you," she says, smiling and leaning into your shoulder. She's angled to you and a few years ago, this would have been an easy win.

"Whatever you say," you say instead. Your eyes wander around, looking for Casey and finding her talking to Jenna and Emily by the breakfast bar. Her cheeks are rosy and you imagine she's had a few more of the pink drinks. You haven't talked to her since the incident in the kitchen earlier, but you've caught her eyes since, and she's blushed and looked away everytime. You hope it's endearing but fear it may be for other reasons. You catch her eye again and you nod once, hoping for some sort of reaction to gage the situation. She looks down, bashful, and then she looks back up and half smiles, but it's honest. You can't help but grin back.

Suddenly, you feel a leg across your lap and the drunken girl is almost straddling your lap. You look back up at Casey and her eyes are widened, her lips set in a strange line. She sees you're looking at her again, and she looks away determinedly. "Why so sad?" she says, reaching a hand up to caress your chin. You put your hand on top of hers to remove it from your face.

"Not sad at all. In fact, I'll be quite happy when this night is over," you answer, trying to move the rest of her body from yours. Unfortunately, she is no help and doesn't catch the hint.

"Maybe I can help make it go by faster for you," she replies and you can smell the alcohol on her breath. Her arms are around your neck now and as you try to remove them from you, there's another presence in front of you.

"Hi honey. Who's this?" You look up, and it's Emily and for the first time in a long time, you're so overjoyed to see Emily Davis before you. She's smiling, and her eyes are twinkling in a knowing way, and you'll owe her for this, you're sure.

"Hey Em. I wasn't actually introduced yet. This is my gal Emily. And you are?" you say, and grin as the girl detaches herself from you.

"I'm gone," she says and leaves the couch, stumbling the whole way. Emily laughs and sits down in the vacated seat.

"Thank you," you mumble before taking another sip of your beer.

"No problem. It looked like you needed saving," Emily says and her words are a bit blurred together, and you're glad to see that the sparkle in her eyes is because of the alcohol. "I'm having such a good time. I'm glad Sam gave us the okay to come. Casey thought he'd be okay with it."

You look at her in confusion. "I thought she didn't want to come?"

"She didn't, not really. But, like I told her, you'd be here and you're pretty much her best friend while we go to different schools. She talks about you all the time, you know. How you take care of her and whatnot," Emily says, her hand moving to and fro in front of her face. She watches in entertainment.

"She does, huh?"

"Yeah. She's changed a lot, you know? In good ways, mostly because of you."

"I doubt that," you answer, drowning the rest of your drink. You look back up and hope to catch Casey's eye again, but she's gone from the bar and the drunk girl is there hitting on the blond guy Emily had been dancing with earlier. "Any changing she's done is because of herself."

"No, that's not completely true. In high school, she calmed down a lot, wasn't so OCD about everything. When she came to university, I wasn't sure she would be okay away from her mom after everything that happened, but she was so relieved when you got accepted there too. And, well, you've done a lot of good for her. Even if it wasn't intentional," she replies, grinning widely. You can't help but look shy, and you feel warmth across your cheeks. "See, Derek Venturi would never blush. Now he does. I wonder who else changed," she says smugly.

You look up again and catch Casey coming from the bathroom. Her shoulders are back and her chin is held high. The sweatshirt now clutched in her hands, and you can see the bold shirt she chose to wear underneath. It was bright blue, low V in the front and snug in all the right places. She's confident now, you think, and can really see all the changes Emily has mentioned. Was it really you that did it?

She meets your eyes finally, and a full fledged smile grazes her lips. She continues forward, grabbing a drink from the counter on her way, and comes to stand before you and Emily on the couch. "What are you two talking about?" she says, eyes bright.

"Changes," Emily answers for you, smirking. Casey raises an eyebrow but shrugs it off quickly, before taking a large sip of her drink. "How many of those have you had tonight?"

"Um, well, two plus three and then that other one. So, like, five, six!" Casey announces proudly, nodding her head to the current song playing through Sam's speakers.

"Maybe you've had enough then," you say and laugh when Casey frowns.

"But I'm having oh so much fun right now! And these are so good!" she squeals and sort of jumps when someone bumps into her. You stand so quickly and catch her in your arms before she falls. Her drink spills to the floor, but she's right up against you and her eyes meet yours, all hazy and bright, and you really have no idea how you're restraining yourself right now.

"Casey, are you okay?" Emily asks after a moment, and you two still haven't moved from each other.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Casey replies, but doesn't take her eyes off of you. You don't let your gaze waver from hers and you don't care what Emily thinks about the situation and you really wish that Casey wasn't drunk because you need her to be the one that has a clear mind. "Let's dance, please?" she asks quietly, and although you can smell the liquor on her warm breath, her words flow smoothly and she's leading you by the hand to the makeshift dance floor before you have a chance to reply.

Just like in a cliché movie scene, the song has just changed to a slow tune, but that doesn't waiver her. She puts her hands on your shoulders, bringing her body close to yours. Her shirt has raised up a bit from her stumble so your bare fingers graze the skin there slightly, the rest on the belt loops of her jeans. You've never been this open with her before, especially in front of an audience. Honestly, you've never even been this way with any girl before. And you think back on what Emily said earlier about changing, and you think that even though it's scary, you wouldn't want to change anything back either.

-

As Casey nuzzles into your neck some more, you notice the sun creeping into the windows through the white blinds. There's a stream of light across the floor and you see the rainbow affect, probably from a crystal hanging in the window. You notice cups lingering on the tables, on top of any open surfaces really, and the TV is on standby, a small image of a toaster moving across the scene, bouncing from wall to wall. She yawns and stretches a little, and the simplicity of it, how normal this feels, warms your heart too much and you feel like the Grinch and the Who's have just begun their heart song.

Your hand that's at her waist holds tight for a second, squeezing her side in an effort to wake her. She looks down and tenses slightly when she recognizes your watch. She slowly raises her head enough to see that it's you. "Hi," you murmur, watching her reaction.

"Hi," she says, eyes wide in confusion. She's still tense and you move your hand from her waist as she shifts to sit up. Your old sweatshirt lays behind you and she tugs at it. You rise up a bit and she grabs it, quickly throwing it over her revealing shirt, something you've just realized that was showing something a little inappropriate for her.

"How are you feeling?" you ask quietly, rising up on your elbows. Her legs are still entangled with yours, and she shifts a little to get more comfortable and that doesn't involve extracting herself completely, you see with glee.

"Depends. Did I do anything stupid last night?" she quips, rubbing her forehead.

"Nah. I mean, besides the little striptease to Britney Spears. Oh, and the karaoke contest you tried to start. But, yeah, nothing too horrible," you say with a smirk, trying to get a rise out of her. She grins behind her hand and closes her eyes.

"I'm exhausted," she sighs. She looks down at you and frowns. "Aren't you sore from lying there all night?"

"Nah, I'm good," you reply, even as your spine begs to stretch out.

"Do you mind if I…?" she starts, gesturing to lay back down. You shuffle back down into a more comfortable position before she lies back down. She doesn't drape herself over you completely like earlier, but lets her head rest of your chest, her fist coming to stay right next to it. You're not sure what to do with your own hands, so one comes to rest lightly on her back, the other stays on the cushions at your waist.

"Did you sleep okay?" you ask, still quiet. It doesn't feel right yet to talk at normal voice levels.

She feels the same way and talks just above a whisper. "Yeah, actually. I'm sorry if I cramped your style. I know you don't really like cuddling or anything."

"I never said that, exactly," you say in defense. She laughs a little and looks up at your face again.

"Well, I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable then."

"Not enough for you to move though," you laugh, your hand beginning to lightly move up and down her back.

"Nah. You're actually pretty comfy for someone so scrawny." She pokes your side slightly and after you've squirmed and moved back, her hand stays against your ribs.

"I resent that. As I've said before, I'm scrappy."

"Whatever, D," she says. For a few comfortable minutes, you lay in a comfortable silence, slowly waking up together. "Do you ever think about what would have happened if Mom and George hadn't split up?"

"Not really. I mean, sure, it would have been easier I guess," you begin, confused at her question.

"I think about it a lot."

"Recently?" you question, and she begins to play with the string from the sweatshirt idly as she speaks.

"I did then too. It used to make me feel optimistic about it all, you know? That they would just get through it and we'd be the same. But now when I think about it… well, I'm not so sure it wasn't for good."

"True. It got pretty brutal in the end," you say, hoping she would come to a point soon. Any conversation dealing with the divorce left you queasy.

"That's not exactly what I mean," she starts and you wait patiently for a moment, letting her pour her thoughts to her mouth. "I just, I really don't know what I would have done without you after. And I think if it didn't happen, we wouldn't be this close. Even though it hurts to not see George with Mom, I'm happy to know that I come home and still see you." She's still talking really quiet, and she still hasn't looked up at you.

"Yeah," you say and your brain is hazy. Her fingers are now leaving lazy circles on your chest, and you're trying to pay attention to her quiet words lying heavily in the air. This is a conversation you've been waiting for without knowing it.

"I feel really guilty about it sometimes, thinking back on all those times. It almost felt like we were the parents, you know? We were a real family, something I think we've always wanted. There were the two parents, and three happy kids, sitting together at dinner, laughing and well, it was nice. I know that when it was just Lizzie and I, it was hard. And now, it's complete."

Now you're confused. "So, you think of me as a brother?" You hope she doesn't hear the desperation in your voice, but as she sits up enough to look you in the face, you know she has.

"Never," she says, almost angry. "You've never been a brother to me, Derek. You were always… I don't know, just Derek."

And it makes sense. "You've always been Casey." She smiles brightly, and everything sort of clicks; finally.

"Yeah," she whispers again.

The room, that was already full of yellow morning light, is now blinding behind your eyelids as her lips find yours into a perfect mold.

-


End file.
